AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"You hurt yourself pretty bad. I need to go get something to treat your scratches. Wait for me here, ok?"
He was worried to leave her for fear she would run again. But she seemed so deeply in her own world that she barely realized as he left her side.
Michele remembered seeing a drugstore around the corner, and hurrying, he got whatever items he could find before coming back—all the while hoping his pet wouldn't leave. He didn't know what he was capable of doing if she ran from him again—if he saw that terrified expression again.
Yet as he got back, it was to find her as he'd left her.
She was staring into empty space, her hands on her thighs, palms up.
He could see that her dress had been slightly torn at the knees too, and he didn't know why the sight of her like that tugged at his heart.
He found it hard to swallow, almost as if his entire throat had closed up.
"I'm back," he added quietly as he crouched in front of her.
Grabbing the hem of her dress, he looked for consent in her gaze before he lifted it, folding it neatly around her thighs.
He shuffled through the items he'd bought from the drugstore, taking out some alcohol wipes.
"This is going to hurt a little. Just bear with me, ok?"
She didn't answer.
At first, he tried to tend to her with his gloves on, but they made it harder for him to be gentle with her—to feel her skin on his.
With a sigh, he removed his gloves, placing them next to her before he got back to work. But that movement seemed to get her attention. She blinked, slowly looking from the gloves to him and back to the gloves, the unspoken question written all over her face.
He didn't bother to say anything, keeping his focus on her knees.
Bringing the alcohol wipes to the injured area, he noticed her wince. But she didn't whimper, or make any noise. She took it in quietly, letting him do his job.
He cleaned one knee. Then the other.
Applying healing ointment, he finally got some band-aids, carefully placing them over her wounds.
When it was all done, he felt pretty satisfied with himself and even prouder of her for taking it in stride like a champion.
"Can you give me your hands?" He asked as he lowered her dress over her legs, smoothing it out and dusting the dirt off it.
Something flickered in his pet's eyes. She hesitated for a moment before she offered her hands to him.
Just like with her knees, he took his time cleaning each wound, his whole focus on making sure each scrape was perfectly taken care of.
Yet as he gently cupped her hand, bringing the wipe to the bottom of her palm, he felt himself thrust in the past. A long ago memory reached the surface as he saw himself thirteen years back, wiping her hands just as he did now. There was familiarity, but there was also something else…an aching emptiness that he could not explain.
Pushing everything down, he focused on finishing her up, applying some ointment before adding the band-aid.
When he was done, he stood up, assessing her carefully.
"Thank you."
The words were so soft, so quiet he thought he misheard.
But he didn't.
Slowly, she brought her head up, meeting his gaze for the first time.
"Why did you run away from me?" He asked equally as softly.
